


Fascination Waltz

by alleyesonthehindenburg



Category: MASH (TV)
Genre: Bubble Bath, Multi, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-19 00:27:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17591297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alleyesonthehindenburg/pseuds/alleyesonthehindenburg
Summary: Peg can’t hold back a low moan as she sinks into the water, the heat seeping into her muscles. She stretches, wiggles her toes, dips her head back so that just the tips of her hair are wet. There hasn’t been time for a long bath like this in ages, not since before BJ got home, when she would leave Erin with her mother for the night just to have some private time. It’s blissfully warm.





	Fascination Waltz

**Author's Note:**

  * For [onekisstotakewithme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/onekisstotakewithme/gifts).



> there's one line in here that's blatantly unsexy but once you write it, it stays in the fic

Peg can’t hold back a low moan as she sinks into the water, the heat seeping into her muscles. She stretches, wiggles her toes, dips her head back so that just the tips of her hair are wet. There hasn’t been time for a long bath like this in ages, not since before BJ got home, when she would leave Erin with her mother for the night just to have some private time. It’s blissfully warm. The bubble soap she used is ‘ocean breeze,’ whatever that means, but it smells wonderful, and she breathes in deep as she trails one hand down between her legs.

The desire low in her stomach is simmering and lazy, and it’s a welcome change. There’s been a sense of urgency to their sex ever since BJ got back, like he’s afraid he’ll be called away again, and she can’t wait until he’s calmed down enough that they can take it slow again. It’s hot like that, fast and desperate, but it’s not what she’s been dreaming of for years.

So she closes her eyes and leans her head back against the edge of the tub, enjoying the steady pressure of her palm against her cunt. It’d be nice if the tub were bigger. BJ has never been able to stretch out in it – one of the few perks of being short, she supposes – and, oh, she’d love if they could both relax like this. Or maybe a hot tub would be better for that. She could get one too, for the Stinson Beach house, put it out back –

“Erin’s in bed,” BJ says cheerfully. Peg startles, jerking her hand back on instinct. Her husband is oblivious, leaning over the sink to brush his teeth, and she relaxes, returning to that steady back-and-forth pressure. The bubbles hide her whole body, and it’s not like she cares if BJ knows, anyway. “You gonna be here a while?”

“A bit,” she says, not bothering to hide the drowsy satisfaction in her voice, and BJ glances over at her, eyebrows raised. He takes in the sight of her, slumped in the bathtub, one hand hidden beneath the water, and grins.

“Care for a hand?”

“Not tonight, thank you.” She leans over the lip of the tub, reaching for her wine glass with her free hand, and frowns. “Actually.”

BJ laughs, stepping over the debris of the day’s outfit to pass her the glass. She hums her appreciation, and he leans against the counter as she takes a drink, leering.

“Don’t look at me like that,” she says primly, setting the glass down. “I’m a married woman, you know.”

“So I heard, Mrs. Hunnicutt.” His grin is wide beneath that god-awful moustache, and she can’t help but smile back at him, picking up the pace slightly in the rhythmic circles of her hand. “Would you mind terribly if you had an audience?”

“I think it would be criminal for a sight like this to go to waste,” she says, lifting her leg out of the water to demonstrate. It comes up covered in bubbles, and she giggles, the sound a sharp contrast to BJ’s low chuckle. “But it’s going to be a long show.”

“I have nowhere better to be.”

“You’d better not.” It’s tempting to speed up her movements, put on a show, but that’s not the point of this. She relaxes into it, rubbing the tips of her fingers against her clit, and she’s slick enough now to slide one inside. “I’m not taking care of that, you know,” she says, nodding her chin at the bulge tenting BJ’s pants.

He laughs, shifting a bit, but he seems content to watch her, arms folded over his chest. “I’ll come up with something.”

“Mm.” She closes her eyes again, leaning back. Her middle finger rubs against the inside of her cunt, the heel of her hand still applying delicious pressure to her clit. The sensation is pleasant enough on its own, and she’s about to summon her favourite fantasy to mind when she pauses, eyes opening again. “BJ,” she says.

“Yes, Peg?”

She bites her lip, caught up in the frisson of pleasure for a second, and then slides her finger out. “Tell me about you and Hawkeye. When you had sex.”

There’s a moment where she thinks she’s made the wrong move, bringing this up now, when they’ve still not talked about it properly, without military censors and five thousand miles between them. But then BJ’s eyes darken, and she can breathe again. “What do you want to know?”

“I don’t know. Tell me a story.”

He runs a hand down to cup himself at that, licking his lips. She wonders if he’s ever accidentally swallowed a moustache hair. “Okay,” he says. “Did I ever write to you about the time we did this surgeon swap with another unit? Hawk got sent over to the 8063rd, and they sent this redneck over to us.”

“I’m impressed you managed to have sex with him all the way in another camp.”

He rolls his eyes, grinning despite himself. “Anyway, by the time Hawk got  _ back _ , I was plenty pleased to see him. After a week of being called BB and GG and JB, well. And I know just how to get Hawk to say my name, too.”

There it is. Peg hums, sliding a finger back into her cunt.

“We had to wait for Charles to leave, of course,” BJ continues, voice going husky. “But as soon as we had the swamp to ourselves, Hawk was on top of me, kissing me like – like just a week without was torture. You should see him, Peg, you’d love him when he’s desperate, like he can’t keep his hands off me.”

“What did you do?” It comes out a bit breathy, but Peg can’t bring herself to care. The pressure from inside her cunt is delicious – not enough to make her come, not alone, but still pleasant in a sharp way.

“Got him onto his back,” BJ says, and Peg moans at the implications of it, that it was that easy, that effortless. “He likes it from behind, but I like to see the look on his face when he comes.”

“Is it pretty?”

“So pretty, Peg,” he whispers, eyes dark with arousal, and she knows some of it is for her, but some of it is for Hawkeye Pierce, too, and she wonders if it’s strange that it doesn’t bother her.

“Is he like me?”

BJ pauses at that, hand stilling on his crotch, uncertain. “Peg - “

“It’s not a trick question, BJ, christ, just tell me something hot!”

“He takes it like he needs it,” BJ says. 

Peg closes her eyes, rolling her hips up into the press of her palm, and she can imagine it. She’s only ever seen Hawkeye in the pictures BJ mailed her and the ones Daniel shared at the party, only ever heard his voice in the clips the wonderful man sent for their anniversary, but the image is so clear in her mind – BJ, her BJ, crouched over another man in the dark, both domineering and gentle in that way of his as Hawkeye falls apart beneath him. She bets he’s loud. BJ’s letters were always full of how loud Hawkeye Pierce is.

“What about, ah…” She finally brings her other hand into the water, and it’s cold at first, but it lets her rub at her cunt more deliberately. “How is it like, when you’re…?”

“It’s incredible,” BJ says, leaning in like he’s about to tell her a secret. “Especially when he begs.”

That’s all it takes: the heat crests over her, hips rocking up as she closes her eyes, breathing in sharply. The aftershocks are slow and steady, and she presses a careful hand to her oversensitised clit, humming low as the pleasure settles, her breaths evening out into deep pants.

By the time she opens her eyes, BJ is removing his boxers, making a face at the mess he made, and she giggles, stretching out in the bath. “Thank you  _ very _ much, dear,” she says, words heavy with satisfaction.

BJ pitches the boxers to the laundry hamper, utterly unabashed in his birthday suit, and presses a kiss to the top of Peg’s head. “Any time, Peggy Jane.”

She settles back into the warm water, reaching out to grab her wine glass, and wonders if Hawkeye Pierce would have the same effect in person.


End file.
